yep, they got me…

Posted on May 25, 2013 by Rachel Dinger under Food, Photos

My boss is probably still shuddering, knowing how close his employees came to giving the game away. But since I wasn’t really paying attention (though I should’ve been), everything worked out. It was a really slow Friday, and the beginning of Memorial Day Weekend, so you’ll understand that customers were coming in at a snail’s pace.

About an two hours before closing time, my co-worker came over to me and said, “What’s he got there?”, referring to something my boss had on his person. I looked around, but hadn’t noticed anything. Then he asked, “He usually only gets those when someone has a birthday! Do you know who has a birthday?”.

This time, I thought to myself that my birthday was a few weeks ago, so it wasn’t mine. And he must’ve been suggesting my boss had come in with some kind of dessert. But again, I hadn’t seen anything, and I wasn’t really paying close attention. My co-worker does get hyped up about random things, sometimes. My ears should have perked up, though.

An hour before closing time, I had a minute to wipe some tables, so I picked up my spray bottle and towel, and headed for the front room. At the same time I sensed people behind me, I heard my boss say, “Ready?”, and turned to see him with a funny grin on his face, and a huge pizza-sized cookie in his hands. Oh.

So, they sang me Happy Birthday, and no, I didn’t freak out on them. Thankfully, there were only one or two customers in the room and I only have a couple of co-workers, during the summer. If they had done this to me while there was a crowd there, a few weeks ago, I would have been really embarrassed. As it was, I had an odd smile on my face, because I had connected the dots over Napoleon had asked me, earlier, and now I was trying to keep from laughing.

When I related how Pol had almost given it away, my boss told me how when he entered the building, our deli guy said “Cookie!”, really loudly, at the sight of him. He face-palmed himself, mentally, at how everyone was trying to give away the surprise. But with a molasses-slow day on our hands, I was paying more attention to whether the front sitting area was clean and were all the coffee pots full?

Now, even though my co-workers all had some of the cookie, there was a lot left, and I really wished that most of the grad students weren’t away for the day. There’s a certain group that comes in regularly, near closing time, and if they’d been in their lab today, I would have taken them most of that cookie. Well, after I got off work. Unfortunately, they were either away, or I didn’t know the right phone numbers, so I had to take most of the cookie home with me. I know, you’re thinking that’s a great thing, but it isn’t when you’re trying to eat right. But at least I tried. : )

a seabrook sunday…

Posted on May 24, 2013 by Rachel Dinger under America, Australia, Christianity, Food, Friends, Memories, Nature, Photos, Travel

For the first time ever, on a Seabrook weekend, I didn’t wear my Sunday clothes to breakfast. I know, you’re stunned. Since I don’t like being rushed after I eat, I usually dress up first, and then go to the dining hall. But this year, I had a brand-new dress, bought as part of my birthday present, and I was terrified that I would spill something on it. Yes, pessimism came to the fore, and I went to breakfast in shorts and a t-shirt. But hey, I was in good company.

But the dress survived the trip to chapel, and the sun was out, making for some beautiful photo sessions, afterwards. Last conference, I happened to bring my tripod along for the group picture, but this year, I forgot. So, we made do, like we did a year ago, when it rained, and we took the group pic INSIDE the chapel. One of the guys carried the recycling bin outside, we set several hymn books on top, and I used that to prop my camera on, while setting the timer.

If you see me standing awkwardly in that picture, it’s because I ran to my spot and found myself with a part of a step to stand on, for one foot, and some soft mulch for the other. I was trying to keep my balance, not wanting a colossal fall captured on camera, when the timer went off.

After the group shot is over, lots of people run back to their cabins change, but some of us meander back slowly, taking other smaller group pictures, on the way. Halfway to my cabin, we stopped for some, with Court and I goofing off a bit, as she took advantage of the height difference. Then we dragged some of the guys into the fun.

At lunch, Tom passed off his hat to Skip (our fearless leader), who never passes up an opportunity for a good pose. Especially when the goofy pictures always make it into the Sunday evening slideshow. Then the hat got passed around for more photo opportunities. Speaking of the slideshow, I still remember when Bob brought the first digital camera to Seabrook, and we began to make a regular thing of it. Sunday afternoon is the time to hand off the photos to Tom, and we girls make sure that the worst photos on our OWN cameras don’t make it onto his computer. But we have no control over the crazy pictures that come off the other cameras.

Lunch was taco soup, which some of us thought was ALL, and then realized they had the turkey sandwich fixings back in the kitchen, and not on the buffet line. After we ate, I think Dave’s presence was really missed, because not only is he our resident “pyro”, he also usually leads a hike on Sunday afternoon, for those who like walking the Seabrook trails. Instead, and even better, we had a baptism, in the ocean, for one of our dear girls.

Afterwards, I watched some of my friends pick up a dead jellyfish, to look at it closely, and then take it back into the water TWICE, to wash more sand out of it. I think they couldn’t see the guts very well, or something. It was funny to listen to them cheerfully point out “there’s its nose, eyes, and mouth…”. Sillies.

On the way to uploading pictures to Tom’s computer, in the dining hall, I had to show him how to turn the water on, to wash off his sandy feet and shoes. I think they keep adjusting how they use those beach “showers”. But at least it made me feel smart. : )

When we reached the dining hall for dinner, one of the chefs came out to tell us all about the roast beef, gravy, mixed vegetables, and mashed potatoes we would be having for dinner. Those potatoes are amazing, I’m not sure I want to know what they add to make them taste so good. There are probably lots of calories in the ingredients. We did miss having the famous camp mac’n'cheese, though. They make a triple cheese macaroni and cheese dish that’s to die for, and you’ve never had anything like it, anywhere. Too bad, maybe in November.

The camp provides an assortment of coffee mugs, and when I took notice of Harold’s, I had to get a picture of him with it. Besides, he’s a born model.

Before the evening meeting, Courtney had some fun with Rachel’s (different Rachel, not me) hair. That’s what happens when you room with a hairdresser, eventually, she will do something with your hair. It’s good fun.

The final meeting of the weekend was excellent, and before it started, we tried to bring the roof down, with the singing. Harold put in our usual ending numbers, with a few extras, so the girls able to hit the high notes were really having to work. I’m always grateful that “Wonderful Grace of Jesus” gives us a momentary breather, in the chorus.

Sunday ended with a hilarious slideshow, complete with random quotes from the weekend. We’re always good for a few of those. After a few snacks (because you know, we’ve barely eaten anything, all weekend), we had a rousing game of Signs, which I think I won. That’s what happens when you play for an hour or more, and you never get called into the middle, right? I was the only one to manage it, this time. Of course, we have almost as many spectators as players, because it’s a hoot to watch the game.

Finally, with the clouds beginning to clear off, we hit the beach and walked down to the point. Several people had their phones out, loading their constellation and star apps, in order to see what constellations we were looking at. Once I spotted Orion, I commented on the fact that it was the only constellation I could see in Australia, that I recognized. Even though he always looked like he was upside down (or something), it was comforting to see something familiar. One of the guys shot down this remark, insisting that no constellations from the Northern Hemisphere were visible in the Southern Hemisphere. He said I must have seen Cygnus.

Well, I insisted that I ought to know what Orion looks like, and his belt is distinctive, but I had no proof. But I have remembered to look it up, at last, and guess what? I was right! Orion is located on the celestial equator and is visible in BOTH hemispheres! So there! Sorry, when you’re in a totally different place, far from all you know, you will latch onto the few things that are familiar. And I didn’t want that taken away from me, even a year after the fact.

Stay with me! I’m including a picture of Monday’s delicious breakfast, because I have so many things to talk about and show from our time spent in Charleston. We’re getting there, slowly but surely!

a seabrook saturday…

Posted on May 23, 2013 by Rachel Dinger under America, Christianity, Food, Friends, Memories, Nature, Photos, Travel

I’m trying to condense the weekend, really I am, but I definitely got into picture taking mode. It’s been a conference or two since I took so many. Sometimes, I don’t get going until Sunday, and then you’ve missed your opportunity. But I took a page from Susie’s way of doing things, and included as many food pictures as possible. I did get into the habit of that, while in Australia, but I don’t always remember to take them, when I’m here in the U.S.

Thankfully, we didn’t stay up too late (meaning we were in bed by midnight, I think), so most of us were able to get some sleep that night. We arrived at the dining hall for our first breakfast of the weekend, and were thrilled to find that we had “graduated” to the “grown-up dining room”. Do you remember the tables you sat at, in elementary school? With the colorful mushroom seats that are very close to the floor, because of your short legs? Well, when the conference center is full, we often get to sit on that side of the dining rooms, for at least the first part of the weekend. Usually, on Sunday evening, we’ll graduate to the side with the real chairs. But this weekend, we started off there! It was great.

Since I started going to Seabrook, when I was eighteen years old, I have continued to have an argument with some of my Southern friends, about the subject of grits. For 10-12 years, I wouldn’t touch them, while at the conference, because I’ve always preferred oatmeal. Grits were on par with a bowl of wet sand, flavored with cheese.

Of course, my dear Dana, southern girl that she is, hates oatmeal and loves grits. So, it’s made for some interesting arguments. But a few years back, I gave in, and discovered that some people (like my aunt) are capable of making grits that taste okay. So, I’ve started to eat them at Seabrook, too. And here they are, for your perusal. Funny thing is, on Sunday, I didn’t eat oatmeal, even when it was served at the buffet.

As you can see, we had to test out some of the emergency exits, just to make sure they were working. Actually, that cabin has the only one facing the boardwalk, so it’s great for talking to people before heading outside. My cabin faces the bushes and the alligator pond (don’t worry, we’re up off the ground), so no reason to look out that little door.

Arriving at our little Chapel of the Palms, you can get a tantalizing glimpse of the ocean, over the sea oats (don’t pull them, you’ll get charged a couple hundred bucks). Inside, Skip waited in anticipation for all of us to arrive for the morning meeting. And we were off!

While I’ll talk more about the meetings, later, in another post, this weekend of meetings was amazing. They’re always awesome, of course, because our speakers are never dull, and always bringing forth the Word of God. But hearing about absolute truth (truth is NOT relative, people!) and scientific evidence for the reliability of the Bible? Right up my alley. Couldn’t get enough, and I plan to read Rob’s website, back to front (or top to bottom, as the case may be).

I don’t have a video of any of our song sessions, but I hope to get my hands on one. I wish every church and chapel out there could hear us sing. So many assemblies and churches don’t seem to know the meaning of “make a joyful noise”. And I don’t mean we sound anything like noise. But singing is meant to be joyful, and you should sing out, if you’re capable! I’ve been in churches where I was afraid to sing louder, because no one else was, and it would sound like I was singing a solo. Not here. Someday, we’re going to blow the roof off. Probably on a Sunday evening, when Harold has us sing “Wonderful Grace of Jesus”, “And Can It Be”, and “My Anchor Holds”, all in a row. My voice is usually about gone, by the end of the weekend.

On the way to lunch, I stopped to take a look at the alligator pond. I never actually saw him, but I knew he was there. The camp manager told us that he was, and explained how he was “safe” (not to pet, but look at), if we kept our distance. Apparently, they have weekly tests to see whether he continues to be safe around people. Someone just had to ask how they tested that. Jack told us that they have a “crazy Brit” employed there, who has degrees to prove how much he knows about animals and stuff (don’t ask me which ones, I’ve forgotten). Every week, when the alligator is hanging out on the grass, he’ll run at it… and if the gator runs into the water, he’s safe to be there.

The explosion of laughter that greeted this explanation was deafening. We were told that a year or so ago, their British employee ran at their last gator… and the alligator didn’t run. So, they had that one removed, as he had lost his fear of humans. We joked that actually, the previous employee had run at it, and that was the last seen of him, until the Brit came along. : )

As I continued meandering to the dining hall, I enjoyed looking at the young live oaks, twisting and turning, all over the place. And then there’s the “monster tree”. It’s funny, it took me over ten years to notice that tree’s existence, but I wasn’t photographing nature so much, then, so I wasn’t looking closely at individual trees.

You may have noticed the occasional hibiscus pics, by now. Several trees, in pots, were put by the dining hall, and since it was the first year they had them, I couldn’t stop myself from taking pictures. They were so colorful, and reminded me of Hawaii.

After our yummy lunch of burgers, we visited the gift shop, in order to peruse the gifts AND most especially, enjoy the funny cards they sell there. The truth is, they’re not really meant to be funny, some of them being rather serious and poetic… until Susie or Harold reads them aloud. The Dump Truck of Love is still a winner, but the pics that have Harold listening “angelically” are of a far different card.

The cactus flowers were in bloom, so I hopped off the boardwalk for a few minutes to look at them closely. Also, you can see a lovely picture of one of the caterpillars hanging out around our cabin. They were on the ceiling, on the railing, and who knows where else. I was quite alarmed, when I arrived, but since none of them ever fell on my head, I got over it. If a caterpillar had landed on my head, though, I probably would’ve freaked. I can deal with most bugs and critters, at a distance, but not in my hair. I still haven’t forgotten the year a LARGE spider built a web in our doorway, while we were at meeting. It was at head level, and I got it all in my hair. Yuck.

During our free time, after lunch, I walked on the beach, threw a frisbee, watched my friend pick up a dead crab, and then joined the volleyball game. Of course, I can’t play volleyball AND take pictures, so I don’t have any to show you. The sand was hot and our skills were rusty, but we eventually got it together. Strangely enough, the winning team was always on the same side of the court, even when we traded sides. The other side couldn’t seem to get it together. And there were no spur injuries, which was nice.

Yes, I’m showing off my shoes. I’ve actually had them for more than ten years, though I’m not sure of the exact year I bought them. They used to be a more brilliant coral pink, and my friends expect me to wear them at Seabrook, like they expect the sun to come up in the morning. Running on that hot sand is NOT fun, and the sand spurs are painful, if you step on one. I also need foot support, for play frisbee on the hard-packed sand, when the tide is out. But since I only ever wear them at Seabrook, they’ve only seen about 20 wearings. And I run them through the washing machine, every time, when I get home.

Dinner is when our chef really pulls out the stops for us. Back in the day, we probably had 5 star meals for every meal, but the troubles with the economy affected them, too. Now, they give us delicious meals for breakfast and lunch, but save the crab, mahi-mahi, and the rest of the ultimate deliciousness for dinnertime. This time, it was braised chicken (I think), which a mushroom sauce and veggies galore. And where would we be without Mississippi Mud Pie for dessert?

Saturday is campfire night, so I had to practice. Mike and I broke out our guitars in the chapel, where the wondrous acoustics reign. There’s so much more to it, but I could love that chapel for the acoustics, alone. Unfortunately, our resident “pyro” wasn’t there, so we didn’t have all the equipment for fire-building, and the meeting ran late. A few years ago, the town of Seabrook Island instituted a curfew for campfires, so it has to be put out by 10pm. Unable to find the right materials, and having very little time left, we had to skip the campfire. But I was glad I had practiced ahead of time, even if my fingers didn’t agree. And playing guitar with Mike is always good fun.

After another snack or two in the Snack Shack (to keep from starving, after dinner, you know), most of us hit the beach, but the clouds had come out. This gives the beach a very claustrophobic feel, even though you’re outside with the breeze blowing in your face. Besides, I think you’re supposed to go to the beach at night to look at stars, and what fun is it if you can’t see them?

With a tight schedule for Sunday morning, most of us tried to go to bed at a decent time, which means not much later than 1 am. And with that, I’ll wrap this up for now. Many more pictures to get through, and I don’t know what I’ll do when I get to Monday’s expeditions. I may have taken as many that day, as I took for the rest of the weekend.

converging on each other…

Posted on May 22, 2013 by Rachel Dinger under America, Food, Friends, Memories, Nature, Photos, Travel

It was about six or seven years ago, during one memorable Charleston trip, that we christened our friend Drew with the title, The Lurker. One of the original photo-bombers, somehow, he would just end up in the background of most of our photos. Eventually, we had him “lurk” there on purpose. Over the years, the nickname has lingered, and he still has a talent for silently walking up behind people, or appearing in pictures he wasn’t intended for. It’s a talent that most of us don’t have.

Of course, I wasn’t thinking about this, when I left Clemson. I hit the road at 8 am, and was half an hour past Greenville, enjoying my music, when I noticed a truck starting to pass me. Well, I thought it was. I glanced to my left, looked away, and then looked back again, slightly startled. Sure enough, Drew was looking determinedly at me, from the passenger seat of that truck. I promptly grabbed my phone, to tell my two best friends that “Drew’s lurking at me… from Tom’s truck!”. They thought that was funny, because he had come up in conversation, so technically, he was lurking in the conversation, too. Such talent.

Yes, my girls from Pennsylvania were on their way south. When I lived there, we would drive to Seabrook Island, together, all 10-13 hours of it, depending on traffic. Now, they have to make it on their own. This time, they drove down early, stayed overnight in Charlotte, and were on target to meet me in Summerville at noon. From there, we would leave my car at a friend’s, and travel to Charleston and Seabrook, together. After a year in Australia, I still don’t think we’ve caught up on talking, in our handful of visits, since I returned.

Within half an hour of my destination, I was entertained to see “The Ark” go rolling down the highway, next to me. That was the first time I pulled out my camera and I took it with me everywhere, for the rest of the weekend.

We stopped for lunch at Tbonz, near the Market. Just now, when I finally looked at my picture of the menu again, I thought the menu had been misspelled. Turns out, I never knew that Tbonz’ full name was Tbonz Gill & Grill. For a minute there, I was worried. Spelling mistakes should NOT be in your menu, that’s for sure. Their sweet potato fries were awesome, but don’t order the she-crab soup. Not a winner.

After wandering the whole Market, we crossed the street to look inside of Charleston’s Candy Kitchen. Located on the corner of North Market Street and East Bay, I had never noticed it there, before. Usually, when we cross the streets, outside the Market, we’re further down, and don’t notice what’s up on the corner. As you can see, this is one of the places where you gain weight by looking…. or breathing in the scent of chocolate.

My only purchase was a stick of rock candy. Ah, the memories that come with those treats. Not all good, of course. The main one was from going to Charleston on a school trip, and staying overnight on the U.S.S. Yorktown. We also did the Fort Sumter tour, and I bought some rock candy for that trip. Promptly chipped a tooth that I had just had fixed. Or maybe that was the first chip. I had to have that tooth fixed three times within two weeks, because it just wouldn’t stay fixed. But at the age of 10 or 11, I was horrified by the mishap.

While walking past the U.S. Custom House, on the way to the parking garage, I took another look, and really liked the design on the top of the columns. Don’t you?

After climbing all the stairs to the roof of the parking garage, and making our way back to the car, I was in the driver’s seat again. Charleston isn’t my favorite place to drive, but I am much more used to city driving than my friends, so I always volunteer for this part of things. If my directional sense goes wrong, we get the GPS out. But that always ends interestingly, because I don’t always listen properly to that little voice.

So, last time we used it in Charleston, we almost got seriously lost, trying to follow the directions “Jane” gave us. I’m much better off using my own judgment, and not worrying too much. Charleston is on a peninsula, and sooner or later, you reach the waterfront, and/or come to a bridge. I generally know which direction I should be going, even if I don’t remember the street names.

Having eaten lunch rather late, we skipped the dinner get-together, and went straight to Freshfields Village, at the roundabout in front of Kioway and Seabrook Islands. Goodness, I still remember back before they built that place. And before they built the big bridge on Main Rd. There used to be a “spinning bridge”, instead of a regular draw bridge, and it was a pain, if you got stuck on the road, when the bridge was being “spun” to let boats through.

Instead of dinner, we went to the Marble Slab Creamery, and hemmed and hawed over our choices. I finally decided on Amaretto ice cream, with chocolate chip cookie dough mixed in. The guy working there thought this sounded wonderful, and said he’d have to try it. From there, while I was paying for my ice cream, he asked where we were from, and when I told him Clemson, he said “That’s where I go to school!”.

Turns out, not only that, he’s an engineering student and comes into my cafe regularly. When I informed him that I was the cashier, he KNEW that I had looked familiar. But who really would have thought you’d find your Clemson cashier at an ice cream join, near Seabrook Island? He never “woulda-thunk-it”. He wouldn’t know that I’m at Seabrook, twice a year, every year since 1998.

After all the ice cream was devoured, we headed onto the island, driving “gently” as we went. Yes, the signs really do tell you to drive gently. And after the gatehouse, you HAVE to follow the speed limit (25 mph), or risk getting pulled over by a golf cart, if you go more than 3 miles over the limit. I kid you not. It happened to a friend, about ten years ago, and he still hasn’t lived it down. Most of our group have forgotten how Kelvin drove his motorcycle to Seabrook, only to find that motorcycles weren’t allowed on the island. So, he had to wait for someone to give him a ride to camp. But Gary has never lived down getting a ticket from a golf cart.

Arrival involves much unloading of cars, running and hugging all the arrivals, and lots of general excitement. For me, it used to involve running up and down the boardwalk in my flip-flops (I only fell once), but a foot injury wasn’t allowing that, this time. It was a beautiful evening, with a gorgeous sunset. And even the deer are somewhat friendly. Or at least, unafraid of humans. I got quite close to this one, to take these pictures. But I didn’t go too close, I was afraid the deer would panic and run me over. That’s something that I would never live down.

People still don’t quite believe the story about Kelvin and I finding a deer head washed up on the beach, so many years ago. Aside from us, there were no witnesses to the event. Unlike when the plane landed on the beach, or the large turtle washed up after a boat collision. But if I got run over by a deer, there would have been multiple witnesses, as everyone was on the boardwalk, in the snack shack, or in the gazebo. So, I behaved myself, and so did the deer.

I know, I know, I’m just getting started. But I took a lot of pictures, so this will get things going. Stay with me, I’m catching up!

while you’re waiting…

Posted on May 21, 2013 by Rachel Dinger under Nature, Photos

I know, I know, you’re waiting to hear about my weekend. Since I got in late last night, I’m still pretty tired, but I’m in the process of getting my photos on the computer, and editing them. The process will take some time, though.

So, while you’re waiting for me to get it together, I thought I’d share some more photos from our garden. These were taken at the same time as the rose pictures, but I didn’t have the time to post them all. I was busy packing, that day.

Be patient, I’ll tell you (and show you) about my amazing weekend, as soon as possible.

Meanwhile, it was a lovely, sunny day, and the flowers of my mother’s garden were beautiful.

roses are red…

Posted on May 17, 2013 by Rachel Dinger under Nature, Photos

Yes, they most certainly are.

mother’s day love…

Posted on May 13, 2013 by Rachel Dinger under Family, Photos

looking forward to the sun…

Posted on May 12, 2013 by Rachel Dinger under America, Friends, Memories, Photos

I can still see the rain coming down, out the window, but already it’s starting to let up and the sun is shining through. The freshly mowed grass and the new leaves on the maple tree are already showing a brighter green. Even clouds can’t keep the sun at bay, forever.

After the last week or three, the lakes are filling up, but I no longer trust the weatherman. Yes, I know that some of you never have trusted the weather people, but I tend to just check the report and figure they must know, somehow. But they’ve been SO off, recently. SUN! No, rain! No, sun! No, wait, what comes in-between again? My main hope is that after all this rain that has gotten us well away from any sign of drought, it will be rained OUT for a while. At least long enough for me to go to the beach, and have the sun come with me.

My two best friends haven’t been attending our Seabrook conference for as many years as I have (15 years). So, I assured them that we never have two cold and rainy May conferences in a row. We rarely have any that aren’t sunny and hot. But I was wrong, and two of the last three were not nice weather. So, this one has to be HOT and SUNNY!

I’ve been stalking the weather report, even though I don’t trust them anymore. It gives me hope that they’ll be right, once again. Whatever they were on that messed up their reporting, they’ll get over it. Or off it.

2005

I want to be able to run up and down the boardwalk, in the sunshine, without an umbrella. I want to be able to play Ultimate Frisbee on the beach, and go swimming in the ocean. I want to be able to see the stars, when we go beach-walking at night, with no clouds to make us feel claustrophobic. I want to be able to turn on the air-conditioning in the chapel and our cabins, not the heater. I want to be able to take lots of great Sunday photos, of everyone in their nice Sunday clothes, with sunny blue skies for a backdrop. Wouldn’t you?

~2009

Also, I would like a beautiful warm Saturday night to have a campfire, where I won’t freeze to death between songs, because I can’t play guitar with a jacket or gloves on. And where everyone won’t have to huddle so close to the fire that it blocks the heat coming to everyone else. This isn’t supposed to happen in May.

Anyway, I’m praying for sunshine and warm weather, and counting down the days until I leave for Charleston and Seabrook Island. If the weather report is correct, I’ll get enough sunshine between then and now, to get a decent tan before leaving. Have a great week!

I want this kind of weather back.

sitting in a tree…

Posted on May 11, 2013 by Rachel Dinger under America, Nature, Photos

I ate lunch in that tree, once. Of course, I’ve yet to have the nerve to climb higher, because I’m afraid I’ll get caught by someone official… or because the branches look a little tricky, I might fall or rip my clothes. Just what I want, to have someone call an ambulance because some crazy girl fell out of a tree, on campus.

Hey, you never know. I’m just enough of a pessimist to figure I’d fall out of a tree for the very first time, just when I didn’t want to be caught at it.

But this time, I was waiting to visit with a friend (in a building, not in the tree), but they were running late, so I found my favorite tree branch, and took a seat. There’s even a nice spot where another branch broke off that I could hang my purse on. Which is a good thing, because this particular branch isn’t completely rounded, it’s like a tube that has a pointy ridge on top of it, making it a little more difficult to balance. I don’t need to be balancing my purse on my shoulder, when I’m trying to keep my body balanced enough to not tip off. But since it’s low to the ground and shady, it’s a lovely spot.

Over the last few weeks, I had noticed that a sort of pod was growing on the end of the magnolia tree branches, so I was curious to see if they were the early versions of the flowers or seed pods (or whatever you call them), but I really did think it was a bit early for that. So, the first few pics were taken before they began to open.

Then, on the day I was making myself comfortable in the tree, I had also wandered around to see that these funky looking “pods” were new leaves. You can see the shiny new green, just as they begin to untwist. And when they’ve unfolded, it’s hard to believe that they’ll ever grow as big as the rest of the leaves. But they will, of course.

The black-and-white photo is of the tree trunk, stretching up high above my head. The long branch with the green shoots coming out of it, straight up, is the branch I was sitting on.

I suppose if anyone’s familiar with the trees on Clemson’s campus, they could probably figure out where I was. And, as you can see, I was even curious about the look of the bark and where older branches used to be. Of course, my curiosity was helped by the knowledge that this tree wasn’t crawling with ants or other insects, like many trees usually are. That’ll deter me from getting close to any tree, but this one was bug-free.

P.S. And yes, after I came up with the title of this post, a certain song came to mind. It even made me laugh, when I thought of it. But if you’re singing it to yourself, right now, don’t be silly. I was all by myself in that tree. : P

come on, make that pav!

Posted on May 10, 2013 by Rachel Dinger under America, Australia, Culture, Food, Friends, Memories, Photos

The Australian pavlova… the one dessert I never got enough of, while overseas, and never had a lesson in, until the very end of my time there. As a result, when I try to make it here in the U.S., I start consulting multiple recipes and quizzing all my friends for their opinions on how to make it. Remember, Aussies have slightly different ingredients AND measurements than Americans, so nothing I do here will be exactly like we did there.

My impression, after multiple discussions with friends, is that every Aussie has their own perfect way of making one… or they admit defeat, and don’t make it at all. Maybe it always falls flat (though I don’t even know how that works, yet), or maybe they’re half American, so they were raised on a different combination of desserts. But another friend insists that there is no wrong way to make a pav. So, obviously, it takes all types to make a world. Even in Oz.

For my birthday, I decided it was time to make another attempt at pavlova. Not that anything was wrong with the last one, except technically, it wasn’t pavlova. They do say that it has to have cornstarch (cornflour, if you’re an Aussie) in it, to make it a pav. But as I’ve done more reading on the subject of the ins and outs of pavlovas, maybe it really was one, after all. The difference between a meringue and a pavlova is supposed to be that a pav is hard and crunchy on the outside and marshmallow-y soft on the inside, while meringue is hard throughout. So, last time, I thought I did, and then I thought I didn’t… and now I think I did make one, after all. : )

If you are already looking for the recipe, I haven’t written it yet, so I think I’ll include it at the very end. So, if that’s all you want, scroll straight to the bottom of this page. You see, as I said, I was working from two recipes, tons of online advice, suggestions from my mom, and a little intuition thrown in. In addition, I had to translate the temperatures and measurements, too.

My original recipe, which my friend Imogen sent home with me, was printed off of taste.com.au, and is listed as a “Traditional Pavlova Recipe”. It doesn’t call for cornflour. For my second recipe, she e-mailed me the link to aussie.info.com. I did lots of flipping back and forth from one to the other, trying to decide what to do.

One problem is that Aussies use caster sugar (Americans don’t have this, except perhaps in a specialty store), which seems to be like granulated sugar that’s been blended slightly finer, but not as fine as icing sugar. In the end, we picked up a box of 4x confectioner’s sugar, which is probably too fine, but who cares? It’ll blend nicely into the egg whites, and it’s sugar. Adapt to the ingredients you have, especially if you’re too lazy to blend the sugar in the food processor.

When I began to dig out the ingredients, I practically had to climb into the cupboard, trying to find the cream of tartar, which was hiding in a small container,behind everything else. One recipe calls for it, and the other does not. One recipe explains that cream of tartar helps increase the volume of the egg whites, and gives the pavlova a crunchier crust. So, I thought, it’ll probably help, so I included it.

Remembering that I hadn’t messed it up the first time, so I couldn’t really ruin it this time, unless I did something completely ridiculous, I began my pavlova. I’ve never had any trouble with separating egg whites from egg yolks, so I quickly did that, and threw them in the mixing bowl. By the way, one recipe called for 6 egg whites, the other for 4-6. I think the 4-6 one was tailored more towards 4, so the measurements were a bit different. I went with six, and decided I’d swing with it. One recipe called for a pinch of salt, the other for a pinch of cream of tartar, so I used both.

My first recipe has my friend’s handwritten note that “Typically, in most Aussie pavs, you would use 1/4 cup caster sugar for every egg white – beat until no longer grainy”. So, it’s likely that their caster sugar is grainier than my powdered sugar, and you have to stir longer. And those cups mentioned are in Aussie measures, so I figured my 1 1/2 cups of sugar would work nicely with my 6 eggs. No, wait, one recipe called for 8 ounces of it… so I may have gone with that. Either works. I gradually added the sugar, vanilla, and white vinegar, though I think I saved the vanilla for the very end. It doesn’t really seem like vinegar and vanilla would go together.

Recipe #2 says to lightly fold in the cornstarch. This is where I needed a lesson on folding, from my mom, because I’ve rarely done any recipe that calls for it. The idea of gently stirring, in order to keep it from deflating, strikes me as very odd, but then, I’m using to stirring cookie dough. So, very carefully, I folded in the cornstarch, wondering what would happen if I stirred it too hard. Would it just evaporate before my eyes? That must be what my friend meant about it “falling”.

Also, in Australia, with no everyone having air-conditioning or insulation in their homes, I’m guessing that some of the issues may come with the fluctuation of temperatures inside the house. Even when our AC isn’t running, the house takes a while to change temp, so there isn’t usually any trouble with cooking projects reacting to heat and humidity.

Once the egg whites were ready, I put parchment paper on my cookie sheet, so that I could easily move it to a decorative plate, later. The first time, I didn’t do very well at getting the mixture in a circle, and hollowing it out to make room for the whipped cream. Of course, that time, I overwhipped the cream, so there wasn’t as much of it. But this time, I kept my circle smaller and piled it higher, in order to make a deeper hollow inside. And wished I knew, in detail (with pics), how my friends do it, and what it looks like when they’re making it. : ) Recipe #1 also calls for making “furrows” up the sides. I’m still working on that part.

After much debate over the oven temperatures and timing, we put it into our convection oven. If you have a gas oven, the recipes call for starting with 400°F, and then dropping it to 250°F after ten minutes, and then baking for an hour. I see now that my first recipe calls for even lower temps. But if you have an electric oven, you start it at 250°F and bake for 1.5 hours. Final notation says that if you have a fan-forced oven (convection), then you “adjust accordingly”. Great, so we make it up as we go along. Eventually, we settled on preheating to 250°F, then dropping it to 235°, and baked it for an hour.

Though it was completely done, the outside of the pavlova wasn’t as crispy as it should’ve been, and the inside a bit soft, so I think I’ll bake it longer, next time. My brother has volunteered to eat any more than I want to make, for practice. : )

When it’s baked, you turn off the oven, leave the oven partially ajar, and let the pav cool in the oven. I believe this is because if it gets cool TOO suddenly, it will fall. So, another case of possible “falling” that I have yet to experience, so I’m not quite sure what it would look like, if it did.

After the pav was almost cool, I brought it out of the oven to finish cooling, transferred it to a pretty plate, and cut off the excess parchment paper. It moved very easily, with the paper under it. Then, I prepared to make the whipped cream. The recipe calls for 300 mLs of thickened cream, so I used a pint of heavy whipping cream (which is ~470 mLs, I think). This time, I measured it out, but next time, I’ll just use the whole container, because you can’t have too much whipped cream. Also, I need to mix it slightly less, so it will be a little softer.

Recipe #2 doesn’t have any description of how to make the whipped cream, so I ran with what recipe #1 said. I beat the cream, 1 tbsp of confectioner’s sugar, and 1 tsp of vanilla together. Then, I carefully filled my pavlova, spread it evenly, and decorated it with blueberries and strawberries. We forgot to get a kiwi, or we would have added that, too. And I don’t know if you can even get passionfruit, here in the U.S. (it would probably cost a LOT), so that couldn’t be included. But I’ve seen pictures of pavs with pomegranate seeds on top, too. Raspberries would probably be marvelous, as well.

In the end, the pavlova looked beautiful. So, on to the taste test. When I cut the first slice, I found that the outer crust was softer than last time, and gave no resistance to the spatula. It didn’t hold together very well on the plate, either, so I had trouble getting any photos that didn’t look like a pile of white fluff. My family were all surprised at how light it is, like dining on air, and eating more than one piece didn’t feel like overeating. But despite any criticism that I make of it, with the intention of improving the next one, I think it was delicious, too.

I love how the sweetness of the pavlova, which really is almost the consistency of a marshmallow on the inside, contrasts with the whipped cream. You don’t have to put sugar in the whipped cream, but if you do, there’s so very little, that you just taste creamy wonderfulness in it. And the fruit gives it a punch of flavor, unlike the sweetness and cream of the rest. And getting the crunchiness into the outside of the pav is my goal for next time.

But again, six of us polished off the whole thing in a matter of minutes. And as we joked, if you’ve met my brother, he doesn’t eat four slices of any dessert, just to be polite. And though it was suggested that I could make lemon meringue or key lime pie next, I’m afraid I shot down that idea, because I’ve never liked either desserts, particularly. Oh, I try them now and then, but I’m not a big fan of lemon or lime in desserts, I’m not exactly sure why.

So, thanks for staying with me for this whole extended description of my latest baking expedition. This is what my compilation pavlova recipe would end up looking like, though you can feel free to vary it as much as you like. Remember, this is an Aussie traditional dessert, only slightly revamped for Americans. : )

Rachel’s Aussie-American Pavlova

6 egg whites

8oz confectioner’s sugar, 4x (or caster sugar)

1 pinch cream of tartar

1 pinch salt

1 tsp vanilla

2 tsp cornstarch

1 tsp white vinegar

Using an electric mixer, beat egg whites until it forms stiff peaks. Gradually add sugar, beat until sugar is no longer grainy. Add salt, cream of tartar, vinegar, and vanilla, one at a time. Lightly fold in cornstarch.

Pile mixture into a circular shape, on parchment paper, on a cooking sheet. Build up the sides into walls, with a lower, “hollow” center. Make furrows up the sides, if you like. Bake until crunchy on the outside.

Electric oven: Bake at 250°F, for 1.5 hours

Gas oven: Start at 400°F, bake 10 minutes, then lower to 250°, bake for 1 more hour.

Convection: Bake at 235°F for 1 hour, 15 minutes (varies).

Let pavlova cool in the oven, with the door ajar. When cool, fill with whipped cream and decorate with fruit.

Whipped Cream

1 pint heavy whipping cream

1 tbsp confectioner’s sugar (optional)

1 tsp vanilla

Beat cream, sugar, & vanilla until soft peaks form.

I hope you’ve enjoyed going on this pavlova journey with me. My thanks to all the friends that have given me recipes and made suggestions on how to achieve the perfect pavlova. All measurements and temperatures are American, so be careful, if you live anywhere else. : ) I hope more of my American friends will try out this recipe, and learn to love it as much as I do!

Sing Like No One's Listening

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while you’re waiting…

roses are red…

mother’s day love…

looking forward to the sun…

sitting in a tree…

come on, make that pav!

Rachel’s Aussie-American Pavlova

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Rachel’s Aussie-American Pavlova

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